


Ties that Bind

by Kestrel337



Series: Known Donor [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:17:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5290370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrel337/pseuds/Kestrel337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg child minds for the evening. Greer's needs aren't the only ones met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ties that Bind

Dimmock leaned against the doorframe and asked, his voice deceptively idle, “You coming for drinks tonight?”

Greg shook his head, tucked up the paperwork into its folder, and handed it across the desk. It’d been a hell of a week, with horrible people doing horrible things; heading out to the pub would’ve suited admirably, but wasn’t to be.

“Can’t, but thanks for the invite. I’m looking after my god-daughter so her mums can have a night out.” 

“Never would’ve thought to see you so besotted. It’s good, it’s good!” Dimmock raised his hands, shielding himself from Greg’s glare with the folder. 

“Go on, get out,” Greg mock-growled, chasing Dimmock into the hall before he caught sight of the shopping bag behind Greg’s desk.

It was true; he adored Greer Hooper Donovan with his whole being, and took his duties as godfather very seriously. Such as they were. Neither Sally nor Molly was particularly religious, so his responsibilities were primarily child minding and, as they had phrased it, providing extravagant gifts. Today it was a gift pack of red and white sleepers, one printed all over with the Arsenal logo and the other proclaiming the wearer to be a Baby Gooner. He couldn’t wait to see it on her. He’d never thought to be a father; his wife had been quite outspoken about the incompatibility of police work with family life. To tied to the job to be a good husband, or any kind of dad. Mostly, he’d believed her. The overtime always seemed to butt up against birthdays and anniversaries; his co-workers often watched recitals and school plays second-hand, shaky recordings off mobile phones or snippets on the school’s website. And there were nights like this one, when a week of exposure to the dark side of human nature left him feeling tainted and ugly. Long term compartmentalization wasn’t one of his strengths, although he knew Hopkins and some others managed to keep work and home firmly separated. For one night, he could manage, but not life-long. 

“Which is why this is so perfect for you. Quit woolgathering, and get on.” He’d done his work, done it well, and now it was time to fill a different role. He shut down the computer, locked his files, and closed the door behind him. Work in its place, at least for now. Greer needed him. 

*~*

Molly took one look at him when he arrived, and put on the kettle. “I think you need a night off more than either of us.”

He tried to reassure, although he knew she understood. She’d married a cop, after all, and worked with the bodies of those who died through foul play. “No way; you’ve not had time to yourselves since Greer was born. I’m okay. Long week, couple ugly cases. Just gotta put it behind me.” He offered her the gift bag. “Got something for your girl.” 

“Our girl,” she corrected him, and pulled out the tissue wrapped bundle. “Oh my god, Greg. Really? She’s a bit young to be picking sides.”

“Nope. Never too young to value loyalty.” 

Molly laughed tolerantly and passed the clothing and baby to Greg. “She needs a change, I think. Go ahead and put it on her. But I won’t be held responsible for Sally’s language.” 

“Next time I’ll bring a swear jar,” he stage whispered, and blew a raspberry on Greer’s soft cheek. He heard Sally come in while they were having a tickle, and said to the giggling baby, “Your Mum’s home, darling. Here we go!” 

Sally smiled in greeting and reached for her daughter, swinging her through the air to make her squeal. “What’s this you’re wearing? Your godfather’s daft, you know?” Sally’s movements were businesslike as she tucked Greer into her hip and carried her through to the kitchen.

“I’ll feed her, Sally. I thought you had reservations?”

Molly laughed and pulled him down to kiss his cheek. “You’re right, we do.” Then she pressed one tiny hand over her mouth, utterly failing to suppress her giggles. Sally had returned, and Greer now sported a blue and white bib with an embroidered cockerel, completely covering the shield on her front. 

“Spurs girl, not Arsenal. She’ll be ready for a bottle soon. I’m going to change.”

They left, with many fond kisses and reminders about the list of emergency numbers taped to the fridge (and the back of the front door, and inside one of the kitchen cupboards), and a bottle waiting in the warmer. Greg locked the door behind them and sat down next to the bounce seat. His goddaughter burbled and sucked on her hands and he let the quiet drive away the cacophony in his head.

The shift was startlingly sudden, even though he’d been warned. One moment she was sitting contentedly, the next she was whimpering, threatening to launch into a full-blown scream by the time he’d collected burp cloth, baby, and bottle. She opened her mouth and latched onto the nipple hard, the frustrated tension shifting to intense focus on the task of eating. One hand came up to grasp the bottle, not yet quite strong enough to hold it for herself, but very clearly declaring that this was hers. Greg savored the warm weight of her, letting it seep into his body so tenderly it almost hurt. His heart seemed to beat in time with the sound of her breaths. 

All too soon he was pulling the empty bottle away. She considered fussing about that, but he distracted her by lift her to his shoulder for a solid belch. “Oh, very good, darling. Enjoy that while you can, by the way. It’ll be bad manners all too soon.” Back to the bounce chair; he put on some music to listen to while he washed up and made himself a sandwich. “Tonight we’ll be working on music appreciation,” he told her, and started a Kinks CD, keeping the volume low out of respect for her tiny ears. 

Then he settled onto the sofa with her, and talked. Her eyes never left his while he told her a story about a tall detective who once went on a river cruise and fell overboard, and the doctor who, even though he was a terrible swimmer, went in after him. “There they were, both clinging to the same life-ring, shouting insults at each other. Good thing John doesn’t speak German, that’s all. How they managed to neither of ‘em get sick is anyone’s guess. Don’t go swimming in the river, darling, right?”

She babbled back at him, frowning and arching her back. Her face creased with discontent, and she kicked her feet rhythmically. 

“Done with stories, are we? Fair enough, sweetheart. Let’s get out the playmat.” 

He set it up, the quilted mat with it’s padded arches and dangling toys, to encourage her to reach and grasp and stretch. While she played he took out his phone and snapped a picture of her with a set of plastic rings in her mouth. “Beautiful strong girl, Greer.” Her eyes tracked him, and he marveled again at how much she’d changed just since July. He’d have to find something suitably magnificent for Christmas next month.

“Dimmock’s right, you know. Got me wrapped around your finger. This one, right here,” he said, and pretended to nibble at her hand to make her laugh. He felt that laugh all the way to his toes, sparkling in his blood, so he did it again. “You’re a marvel, you are.” 

 

~*~

 

Molly and Sally returned late, startling him where he sat watching a science fiction movie after giving Greer another bottle. He looked guiltily at the baby sleeping on his chest. 

“Oh, was she fussy?” 

“No, she was a perfect little angel,” he answer Sal. “Sorry, I know you said to put her down before she fell asleep. I just...couldn’t. Feels good to hold her.” 

Sally smiled. “I know. Molly thinks she needs to learn how to soothe herself, how to fall asleep on her own. Probably so, but you know, she’s only going to be little for so long. And I think there’s something to be said for letting her feel safe, and cherished. Set her up strong, you know?”

Greg slowly sat up and kissed the top of her head before passing her over and saying his good-nights. Driving back to his own flat, he considered what Sally had said. She’d got it right, but only halfway. Holding her while she slept was good for little Greer, letting her know that the world was a good place, and that she would be provided for by those around her. But the benefits weren’t hers alone. Meeting her needs had soothed his sore heart, smoothing a balm over the aching powerlessness that went hand in hand with his job. The world _was_ a good place, simply because she was in it. After he’d parked, he fired off a text.

_-She’s wonderful. So thankful you’ve let me be part of her life._


End file.
